


Surviving the Cell

by wolfinpink



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 21:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19035907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfinpink/pseuds/wolfinpink
Summary: 10K is struggling to keep a hold of himself after Murphy puts him in a cell, season 3. He hallucinates the girl he likes. Red? Reader? OC? Whatever you want, I kept it vague.





	Surviving the Cell

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I do this? 10K doesn't deserve this. He deserves a candy and flowers and a super cool rifle in a Camino with a full tank. But no. It's an angsty day.  
> I just wanted a little more to fill in while he was in that cell (which I cant find a freaking gif for???) before he became Murphy's bitch.  
> Hold on 10K! You'll be rescued soon, baby boy.  
> Anyway, I'll be quiet now. Enjoy the pain and comfort:

10K shuffles his bare feet closer to his body, bringing his knees to his chest. He wasn’t sure if Murphy had put him in here as punishment, or to break his spirit. He didn’t care. The time alone was welcome, if it meant he didn’t have to listen to that blue shit talk about his new world.

His chest tightened. A new world _without fear_.

He shook his head violently. That was the bite talking. Murphy was a jerk, creating a race of slaves for his own sordid purposes. 10K’s hands balled into tight fists as he hugged his knees closer. He knew what Murphy was doing was wrong. It was wrong. It was _wrong_.

But still...

A little doubt nagged at him. It felt like a fishing hook caught in a crevice of his brain. Tugging. T u g g i n g.

Murphy could change the world.

SMACK. His hand had barely opened before colliding with the side of his face. The shock winded him more than the pain. He gasped and clamped his fingers around the offending hand’s wrist, locking them between his knees and chest. He was so tired of not being able to trust his own thoughts. His own body. Somewhere along the way 10K had lost where he stopped and the Murphy began.

Traitorous thoughts festered like an infected wound. Bacteria multiplying and spreading through his very blood. He squeezed his eyes shut. He felt contaminated. A kind of dirty he hadn’t experienced in over 7 years of apocalypse. Of dust storms, and using leaves for toilet paper. Of weeks without bathing. Of endless cycles of turning his underwear inside out and back again. He hadn’t even felt like this after he’d pushed a knife into his father’s forehead.

No. This was new level of stained.

His tongue slipped out to wet his lips and he tasted salt. Tears were spilling into the cracks of his chapped skin. He opened his eyes.

And saw her. Against the opposite wall, she sat nearly mirroring him.

10K’s heart clawed its way into his throat. No. She couldn’t be captured. She didn’t deserve this. For a moment he struggled to swallow, his body trembling against the possibility that she could be here. A prisoner. In reach of Murphy’s toxic bite.

She smiles. And he lets out a sigh he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

She’s not here. Just a little hallucination to brighten the gloom. He couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter at the mix of relief and grief that flooded his body. The heart is a complicated thing. He would cut off his right hand to keep her away from here, but he’d cut off his left to feel her next to him. Her body lightly pressing against his side. Her hand in his hand. Her lips –

His cheeks burned at the thought. How many times had he caught himself looking at her mouth as she spoke. Or caught his heart skipping at the sound of her voice. Even down here, alone as alone could be, his face reddened at the thought of kissing her. A girl he didn’t even know returned his feelings or not.

He sighed softly. Gazing across the dirty cement floor at her form. She was sitting cross-legged now, head slightly askew, as if waiting for him to continue a conversation they were having. His hands rubbed roughly over his knees as he took a deep breath.

“I miss you.” He said aloud.

“I miss you too.” She replied. Her brow was softly wrinkled, her mouth turned down. The pain in her expression was enough for him to feel it physically in his chest.

“I’m going to die down here.”

“No. You’re not.” She said immediately, “you’re stronger than that, Tommy.”

His heart melted hearing his real name in her mouth. He had never even gotten to tell her.

“It’s either die or let him have me and I can’t do that.” 10K choked out. He realised he was nearly sobbing.

“Just hold out a little longer.” She begged. Without seeming to move, she was beside him, reaching her arms around his body to cradle him. He leant into her, tucking his head under her chin. He took a deep breath, she smelt good. Safe. But he couldn’t remember the exact scent. Afraid that the hallucination would fade if he dissected it with logic he started to panic, his breath becoming uneven and heavy. Tears washed streaks over his cheeks.

“I hate him. But I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.” He whispered into her neck.

“You have to live. Do what you need to do to survive. That’s all any of us can do.” She said above him, arms tightening around his body.

“What’s the point if I’m not me anymore? I may as well be a freaking Z.”

“Survive. Even if you get lost in him.” She said stiffly. After a moment, her hands retreated from his body. A whine caught in his throat at the loss. She pressed her fingers under his chin and tilted his head to look at her. She was so close. Her eyes brighter than he remembered. Her lips shivered as he glanced at them.

“Because when I come for you, I will drag you back out to me.” She whispered. 10K slid his palm against her cheek, pulling her closer. Their lips were nearly brushing against each other. Her breath was warm against his skin.

“I will find you.” She said. And she was gone.

10Ks arms dropped to the cement floor. A sudden chill replacing the warmth her body had created. She sighed, roughly scrubbing at the tears on his face. She would find him, somewhere, if he could hold onto a tiny piece of himself. Bury it underneath where no stupid bite could penetrate. She would lift him out of the dirt.

His cell door swung open. One of Murphy’s goons stood there, blank faced. His head jerked towards the stairs.

It was time to survive.


End file.
